As a society we are clear that suicide is not something to be encouraged or assisted. Legalising assisted suicide flies in the face of that. It sends the message that, if you are terminally ill, ending your life is something that society endorses and that you might want to consider. Is that really the kind of society we want?

We knew nothing about life in care homes before we needed to find one for my dad, and even during my dad's nine years in three different care homes I wouldn't exactly describe them as hubs of community interest.

The generations that came before us endured so much that we may enjoy a London full of freedom, culture and history. We as a City, together, owe it to them to work hard, to constantly find ways to effectively care for each generation as it grows older.

Older people have, by definition, seen many general elections and they want their concerns to be taken seriously. They are a more sophisticated and knowledgeable electorate than they are often given credit for.

Visiting a care home taught us many lessons. As soon as we arrived, we were struck by their smiles and happiness. Their eyes lighted up and their faces broke out into smiles. It was easy to see what a difference it made for their moods and state of minds.

We're horrified by any derivation from our democratic process, but with the elderly vote becoming ever more influential to our political system, when will it be time that something is done to save the progressive voice of politics?

Social care services are crucial to ensuring elderly and disabled people can remain independent, allowing them to stay in their homes and out of hospital. At present, pensioners are being forced to stay in hospital simply because there is no space available for them in care homes, or their own homes are unsuitable.

Employing more mature celebrities to endorse products in a world saturated with pouting teens and seductive twenty-somethings, is evidence of a growing trend of brands readdressing an affluent market which is feeling misunderstood.

A Revolution which aims to inspire businesses - large, medium, small, micro, and entrepreneurs - to join forces, in a united effort to imagine new products and services with potential of disrupting the institutional model of long term care; a model which is currently not fit for purpose

These people are some of society's most vulnerable, and yet they are living in homes that are not warm enough, do not contain modern facilities or are in a general state of disrepair. The chances of getting ill or having an accident are huge.

One of the saddest things I read while investigating community spirit was to learn that one million people in the UK may not have spoken to another human being in a month. And, for an estimated five million older people living alone, TV is their closest companion.

As the light dawns on a new year, so the great general election battle commences. Party leaders are out on the road, sparring over health, education and the deficit to lure undecided votes across the four corners of the UK.

Later this month Innovate UK, a public funded agency providing support for innovative small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) with high-growth potential, will light the touch paper for a revolution, a revolution which aims to radically rethink current models of long term care and dependency.

What is it about the senior entrepreneur that is so oxymoronic? Surely an older person is the most likely candidate to invent bifocals. I doubt that many 20-somethings (today as much as in the 18th century) have ever stopped to consider the greatness of a lens with two distinct optical powers.

I notice a difference in him immediately. His blue eyes are less focused, and he looks confused when he first sees me. As if he's thinking "I know that girl, but I just can't place her". His soft, wrinkled hands are shaky when he grasps mine in his, as I help him up from his chair. His smile is wide, but uncertain.

Lonely. The word hit me like a dull blow down the phone line. For a man of his years to admit to loneliness to someone he had not met and hardly spoken to before seemed beyond belief. I know elderly men: my grandfathers and their peers don't 'do' emotion, and would balk at sharing them - even with their nearest and dearest, let alone a stranger.

I am 26. I met Rachel, an 86-year-old British Ghanian, through an elderly befriending scheme in Islington. We've been chatting, sipping tea or shandy and half-watching Home and Away every week for the past two years.